


Sweater Weather

by hazleweatherfield



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1510208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazleweatherfield/pseuds/hazleweatherfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby, it's cold outside. Hermann can't seem to get warm and Newt helps him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song by The Neighborhood. This is shameless Fluff Porn. I don't find myself caring too much.

   Newt shivered, why the hell haven’t they fixed the heat in this place? Sure, it’s the end of the world; but isn’t that more of a reason to cut your losses and heat the entire shatterdome? The Lab has never been warm, it’s a fact Newt has come to live with and quite enjoys for most of the year. Then winter hits. Oh how he hates winter. Why has the world gotten rid of the season?  
    “There is green tea flavored Kit Kat bars, how the hell is winter still a thing?!” Newt ponders/screeches to no one in particular.  
    “Newton” Hermann begins with the dry exasperation of someone who is at their wits end. And it’s only one in the morning.  
    “I’m just sayin’, if we can link two peoples minds through a computer how can we not get rid of winter? Or at least heat this place to a level above Russian gulag standards?”  
    “Don’t let Shasha hear that.” Mumbles Hermann.  
    Newt chuckles softly. It’s a rare sight to catch a bit of Hermann’s humor, but he always does. It's one of his favorite things about his colleague. Well that and his hot body and adorably grumpy professor wardrobe, and the wrinkles around his eyes when he smiles a rare smile. Not that Newt has a running list in his head or anything.The limping man makes his way over to the electric kettle kept in the lab. On cold days like this his hip feels even worse than usual, and while tea does nothing it certainly doesn’t hurt to feel warmer. Even if it is only temporary. Hermann fixes himself a cup of tea and wanders over to the couch kept in the lab for when either he or newt—sometimes both—collapse with exhaustion in the wee hours of the morning.  
    Sinking into the cushions, Hermann lets out a shivery breath and shakily grips his mug of tea. Even under three sweaters and a coat he can barely keep warm. I really should work on eating more and taking care of my self he thinks warily for the one hundredth time. Hermann has to put his mug on the table beside the couch to prevent further loss of tea from his now violent shivering.  
    “Herms, are you alright?” Newton asks, walking towards the couch  
    “D-d-do not c-call me that, N-n-n-newton!” He chatters “I am p-perfectly fine th-thank you.”  
    “No you’re not, Hermann” he says, sitting on the far end of the couch. “You’re too cold blooded for this lab! Like a lizard!”  
    “While I am loath to agree with such a comparison, I find that I am st-t-truggling to k-keep warm! Even in my q-quarters its like an ice box!”  
    “Well, you can come sleep in mine, I was just about to go back for some much needed sleep.”  
    “I-I-I am not sure I—“  
    “Dude! You’re going to freeze to death in the night with like a billion sweaters on, and some poor janitor will have to chip you out of your—“  
    “Yes! Fine! I understand your point! I will take you up on your offer, Newton.”  
    Newton and Hermann make their way to Newton room, and Hermann notes with minor relief that it is warmer in this wing of the shatterdome. It always astounded      Hermann how neither he nor Newton were given quarters even remotely ner the lab. The walk to work wasn’t too taxing, but if it weren’t on the same floor Hermann would be in trouble.  
    “Mein got,” Hermann exclaims as Newt opens the door to his quarters. “How is it possibly this warm?”  
    “Contraband space heaters.” Newt says bluntly, unbuttoning his shirt and stripping his nicer-than-the-rest work jeans before hopping into a suspiciously comfortable looking bed.  
    Hermann stands awkwardly, blushing at the sight of his nearly naked colleague, unsure what to do.  
    The blushing did not go unnoticed.  
    “Dude, are you going to stand there all night and watch me or hop in and avoid an icy death?”  
    “Just a moment, Newton, not all of us are so comfortable stripping wantonly in front of our colleagues.” Snaps back, waspishly.  
    “FINE take your time. I’m perfectly happy to wait under my nice warm—heavenly almost—covers.” Newt jokes stretching out on the bed “I invest heavily in good sleep. Mattress pad, down, memory foam, the works.”  
   Hermann sheds his many layers and notes the shift in his bedfellows demeanor. It’s subtle shifting of the covers over Newt’s lap the slight blush, and the fidgeting. Hermann takes the hint and accepts the complimentary glances from Newton. As he, now clad in his boxer-briefs sinks onto the bed and sighs contently.  
    “Newton” he breathes “this bed is blissful”  
    “Thanks man, feel free to sleep here whenever you like.”  
    “You surely cannot mean that, Newton.”  
    “I do,” He yawns. “I really do.”  
    They lie in compatible silence, each drifting off to sleep.  
   

    Newt isn’t sure what woke him first, at 5:30 in the morning, the soft breathy cries or the desperate one legged kicking from Hermann.  
    “Hermann? Hermann!” He whispers twice, the second time a little louder. At the second time, Hermann snaps awake, chest heaving and heart racing. Newt, without thinking, pulls Hermann in for a tight embrace as sobs wrack the smaller mans frail frame.  
    “What was it? A nightmare?” Newt asks, after a few minutes of helpless sobs become quiet sniffles.  
    “Yes” Hermann admits into Newt’s chest “I have them on occasion.  
    “What are they about? You don’t have to share or anything it just I heard from Oprah once that sharing helps and--“  
    “Trespasser,” Hermann cuts in “I was at Stanford when Trespasser attacked. The building crumbled like nothing under his strength and I was pinned under rubble for hours until help could come.” Hermann glances in the dark at all of the kaiju inked onto Newt, knowing Trespasser is on him.  
    “Hermann” Newt whispers “I—“  
    Newton’s words are swallowed with a kiss that starts out with a soft parting of his lips by Hermann’s tongue running along his and escalates into what he can only think to call a fight in the form of a kiss. Both men are hard and grinding against each other’s arousals. Newt hitches his boxers down and hooks his thumb under Hermann’s waistband before taking a much needed breath and tilting his head inquisitively at Hermann.  
    Hermann nods silently in approval and helps by pulling his own boxer briefs down while Newt reaches for the lube he keeps in his nightstand. With his hand slathered in lube Newt holds both his and Hermann’s cocks in his hand and begins pumping both of them. It doesn't take long for both to get close to the edge. Newt runs his thumb over the heads of their erections and soon both are moaning, gripping, and clawing through their shared orgasm.  
    “Holy fuck, Hermann” Newton says, the first to catch his breath  
    “Same to you, Newton” Hermann replies breathlessly  
    “Really? Still Newton? After the most mind blowing hand job of your life and mine?” Newt asks, grabbing a rag to clean both of them off.  
    “Maybe next time” Hermann sleepily retorts  
    “Oh there will definitely be a next time, and you are never not sleeping here again.” Newt declares, kissing the other man sweetly before getting fully back under the covers with him.  
    Hermann mumbles something affirmative in his sleepy state and Newton slowly drift back to sleep holding Hermann.


End file.
